


the art of losing

by auras



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, M/M, Pre-Canon, sorry i am literally incapable of writing anything that isn't angsty, this is rated T because Adam swears ONCE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-21
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2019-06-14 04:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15380622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auras/pseuds/auras
Summary: "You seem to have a bad habit of losing things," Adam teases. "It's almost like a curse."





	the art of losing

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this bc i was procrastinating writing another adashi fic and a klance fic lmao 
> 
> i took some liberties with the canon shiro/adam interaction because i genuinely could not remember their conversation word for word except for the most dramatic part 
> 
> title is from [_One Art_](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47536/one-art) by Elizabeth Bishop

 ✩ 

**i. his favourite toy**

It had been there, just a few minutes ago. He _had_ left the model fighter plane that his father had given to him sitting on the bench, he could swear it. But it isn’t there anymore. The dull brown bench is empty and bare and very obviously lacking Shiro’s toy plane.

It isn’t on the ground, or anywhere near the bench either. He frowns, looking around the bench, in hopes that he would find the plane lying discarded somewhere. It is of no avail; the plane is gone.

When Shiro’s mother comes to look for him much later, she finds him sitting on the same bench, sulking with his eyes downcast and his mouth turned down in a pout.

She sits down next to him.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, stroking his cheek gently to wipe away a stray tear. He had not been crying, no, because he isn’t a crier, but it’s just that he’d accidentally let a single tear slip.

“I lost the plane,” he mumbles guiltily. “The one that Dad gave to me before he left.”

"You are always losing the things that you care about, aren't you." He looks up at her with watery eyes, and she sighs softly. “I’ll buy you a new one, is that okay?” she says, standing up and holding out her hand. He takes it, nodding slightly as he bites his lip, and lets her squeeze his hand reassuringly. Because he knows that his mother was doing her best, and he doesn’t want act like a spoiled child, he does not complain, nor does he try to tell her that even if she bought a new plane, it would not be the same.

 

**ii. a pen**

The black pen that he would always use is missing from his pen case. Shiro curses his bad luck under his breath as he watches the pathetic assortment of pencils and unusable pens roll out from the case. How could he lose his only functional pen right before the Garrison entrance exams, of all times. Their written exams would be starting in ten minutes, and if he doesn’t use a pen, he knows the markers would refuse to grade his paper.

He turns his head to scan the room looking for someone he could borrow one from, but everyone seems to be preoccupied with cramming in as much last-minute information as they can, their heads bowed low as they stare at their books and their lips move silently as they gloss over the pages.

Shiro feels a tap on his shoulder and he swivels back to look at the person who did it. The other student who’d tapped him grins at him.

“Hey man,” he says, “you need help or something?”

Shiro scratches the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Yeah. I, uh, I lost my pen so I don’t have one for the test.”

The boy lights up at that as he starts rummaging through his own pen case, pulling out a sleek black pen. It looks brand new. “Here, I’ll lend you one of mine,” he says as he holds it out, offering it to Shiro.

Shiro grins sheepishly as he takes the pen from the other boy, internally thanking the stars for his turn of luck. “Thanks...” he says, trailing off with uncertainty as he looks at the other boy questioningly.

“Adam,” the other boy beams.

“Thank you, Adam,” Shiro replies, smiling back.

 

**iii. lunch money**

Shiro stares at his wallet in disbelief. The sleeve for bills is empty, gaping mockingly at him.

The cashier glares at him in annoyance and he laughs nervously, face heating up in embarrassment as he starts rummaging through his backpack in hopes of finding some loose change. Shiro’s busy considering maybe borrowing money from the cadet behind him or burying himself in the ground in shame when he feels an arm slung around his shoulder and sees a pre-boxed salad slapped onto the counter beside the sandwich and coffee he had ordered.

“We’re paying together,” Adam says, taking out some bills to pay for their meals before scooping them up. Shiro ducks his head, apologising to the cashier for the mishap before following after the boy hastily.

“Thanks,” Shiro says as they sit down at a table together. He clears his throat awkwardly, before adding, “Again.”

“You seem to have a bad habit of losing things,” Adam teases. “It’s almost like a curse.”

“Anyway, it’s no big deal,” he continues, shrugging flippantly as he opens his salad box. “We’re friends.”

“Still, I have to pay you back since I owe you,” Shiro insists.

“I’m treating you.”

“But—”

Adam looks up from his salad, his gaze bordering on threatening. “I’m treating you,” he repeats firmly, his tone causing any further objections to die in Shiro’s throat.

Adam’s lips quirk up in a cheeky smile as he pokes at his lunch with a fork. “If it helps makes things easier,” he grins, “you can pretend this is a date. Our first date.”

Shiro feels his cheeks heating up again at the implication as he stares down at his sandwich. He clears his throat again as Adam laughs at his response, making a move to pick up his cup of coffee instead, hoping that the cup would cover his flushed face.

The coffee tasted exceptionally sweet that day.

 

**iv. trust**

Adam’s fist is following the rhythm of the clock as it clenches and unclenches repeatedly. The baby pink clock hanging on the wall stands out from the rest of the sterile white walls, just like how Adam’s movements stand out from the stagnancy of the rest of the ward.

“You lied,” Adam says hoarsely. He sounds angry, but after four years of being together, Shiro can easily see past the mask to detect the underlying concern and fear.

“You said it’d just be an ‘easy’ mission,” he continues, “without any danger.” His fist is now curled tightly, his calloused knuckles turning pale. It rests on Shiro’s lap, just a few centimetres shy of the bandages wound around his abdomen.

“It was supposed to be,” Shiro argues weakly. “What happened was unforeseen.”

“The Garrison is supposed to take precautionary measures to ensure the safety of its astronauts to make sure there are no _unforeseeable events_ ,” Adam spits out the last few words in disgust. “You weren’t supposed to be out of your ship for so long; you _know_ your muscles can’t take the strain.”

“It was necessary for the mission,” Shiro replies, not recognising the detachment of his own voice.  

“I hate it,” Adam says softly. His grip loosens, his fingers lying limply against Shiro's thigh. “I hate them for choosing you for missions all the time, for allowing you to endanger yourself like this. This isn’t okay, Takashi.”

“I’m sorry,” Shiro whispers.

Adam looks up at him helplessly. “Part of the reason why I fell in love with you is because of how determined and selfless you were— _are_ , but you can’t keep risking your life on every mission you go on. Do you know how worried I get every time I see your ship take off? I’m scared that one day it won’t return back to Earth.”

Adam is trembling now. Adam had always been the stronger of the two of them emotionally, Shiro thinks, and he was the one who would always support Shiro and push him whenever Shiro was unsure of himself. It pains him to see Adam feel so helpless and hurt, even more so because he’s the root cause of it.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats. “I love you.”

“I don’t want you to apologise,” Adam says. “I don’t hate you; I _love_ you so much, Takashi, unconditionally so. I don’t think I would be able to deal with the pain of losing you. That’s why I want you to stay safe, to ensure that you don’t put yourself at risk anymore.”

He sighs as he takes Shiro’s hand in his, brushing a thumb over the other man’s knuckles. “I love you, but I don’t know if I can trust you anymore,” he admits shakily.

Adam closes his eyes and presses their intertwined hands against his lips.

“Promise me you’ll stop lying to me about your missions, that you won’t willingly put yourself in any more danger. Promise this for me,” Adam whispers. Shiro feels Adam's warm tears drip down onto his hand and Adam’s moving lips tickle his ring finger.

Shiro has never been very good at promises, or keeping things in general for that matter. But it’s _Adam._

“I promise.”

 

**v. a shirt**

“You probably threw it into a corner of the room somewhere,” Adam says mirthfully, “before it got sucked into the deep ends of the universe. That’s how physics works.”

“It’s not funny,” Shiro grumbles, rifling through their shared closet. “I’m meeting Admiral Sanda in ten minutes and she’d probably fire me or something if I’m late, or if I turn up without proper attire.”

“That serious?” Adam laughs. “You can wear mine if you want, we’re around the same size anyway.” There are soft sounds of feet padding against the carpet before the other man comes up from behind to loop his arms around Shiro’s waist, resting his chin on Shiro’s shoulder. “Or maybe you should just say _fuck it_ and not turn up. It’ll almost be like revenge for all those excruciating drills they thrust upon us back when we were cadets.”

“You have a weird idea of revenge,” Shiro says bluntly, but he sighs tiredly and tilts his head to press against Adam’s. “It’s just, I have a big mission coming up with Sam soon but Commander Iverson is averse to the idea of letting me go on it. That's why he went to the extent of sending the Admiral to discuss things with me.”

“Never thought I’d say this but I agree with Iverson for once,” Adam mutters drily.

“Adam—”

“I hate seeing you risk your life every time you get sent up to space, Takashi. You don’t have to jump at every opportunity to join a mission to prove yourself; you’re the best and bravest pilot the Garrison and everyone already knows that,” Adam cuts in, his voice still quiet but with a sombre tone of desperation instead. “ _I_ know that.”

“I don’t go on missions to show off or prove myself,” Shiro retorts, turning so he can face Adam. The other man unlinks his arms so he’s no longer hugging Shiro, letting them fall to his sides in defeat instead.

“I know,” he says, his voice sounding oddly wrangled. “And I’m glad you’ve helped the Garrison with so many new discoveries but—” He rubs his face angrily with one hand, swallowing thickly before he continues. “But your health is declining and you can’t keep doing this for much longer.”

“I know you can’t call off your meeting with the Admiral,” Adam says slowly, taking Shiro’s hands in his. The cold metallic ring on Adam’s finger bites into Shiro's hand accusingly. “But if they give you a chance for an out, promise me you’ll take it. _Please_.”

Something clenches deep in Shiro’s chest. It may be his heart; it may be just another one of his sickened muscles. What was the difference, anyway?

“Okay,” he lies.

 

**vi. his lover**

It takes fifteen steps to go from the door of the staff break room to the kitchen area; Shiro knows this because he’s made the trip too many times with every single coffee break he could find time for.

Shiro sits down on the worn couch at the centre of the room, staring down at the drab brown leather as it sinks under his weight. He sits in silence for a few heartbeats, his thoughts brewing like a heavy storm. The words lie heavy on his tongue and he doesn’t know how to say them.

Adam is the one who speaks first. Shiro thinks he’s always been the braver of the two, like that.

“Everything alright?” Adam asks.

“The Commander doesn’t think I should be part of the mission with Sam,” Shiro replies, finally turning to face the other man. “They tried to convince Sam to remove me from the Kerberos mission crew.”

“Maybe he’s right,” Adam says quietly, “maybe you shouldn’t go. You shouldn’t be putting yourself at risk.” _Not again,_ his eyes plead. His hand wraps around the handle of his coffee mug tighter. The ring on his fourth finger makes a soft _clack_ as it hits against the ceramic.

“You know how important this mission is to me,” Shiro snaps. “Sam has been doing research in preparation for this mission for _years_ now and he personally picked me to go. I can’t just let his hard work go to waste.”

“Takashi,” Adam says, his voice strained, “how important am _I_ to you?”

Shiro wants—he so desperately _wants_ —to say something but the words refuse to leave his mouth. Maybe Adam had been right, maybe losing things was a curse he bore.

“I can’t let Sam down; I promised him,” he chokes out instead. A throbbing in his chest and on his finger reminds him of a separate promise he is failing to keep.

Adam lets out a sad laugh that sounds more like a strangled banshee’s cry to Shiro’s ears. “Always so noble, _Shiro_ ,” he says softly, resigned. “I can’t do this anymore, not if you keep hurting yourself or me like this.”

“I know I can’t stop you from going on this mission, but if you come back, don’t expect me to be here anymore.” He stands up and shoulders his bag on, his movements sluggish.

Adam begins walking towards the door slowly, as if waiting for Shiro to do something to take him back. He probably would have gone back to Shiro, if Shiro had done something, _anything_. Instead, he watches stoically as the other man slips through his fingers.

It takes fifteen steps for a heart to break; Shiro knows this because he sits there watching it unfold, each step heavy with the snap of a heartstring and the loss of another part of him.

**Author's Note:**

> think about the phrase "i'll be with you every step of the way" LMAO 
> 
> i realised i forgot to get shiro to introduce himself to adam but he probably did that when returning the pen to adam
> 
> also i know shiro's mum sounded kind of mean in that first part about him losing things but trust me all asian parents are like that 
> 
> this is unbeta'd so if you spot any mistakes please let me know on [tumblr](http://kestrels.tumblr.com)


End file.
